


Cooperative Play

by SallyExactly



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Hugs all around, and other things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 23:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19120084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SallyExactly/pseuds/SallyExactly
Summary: Rufus spends the night.





	Cooperative Play

**Author's Note:**

> Set between 1.07 and 1.13.

"Motherfucking _shells!_ You damned fucking—"

Jiya smirked as Rufus bit back the rest of that string of obscenities. He dropped the controller on her floor. "I concede," he said. "Also, you're dead to me. Just so you know."

She paused the game, leaned forward, and kissed him. "No one likes a sore loser," she murmured against his mouth.

"Yeah, you know what else no one likes? _Fucking blue shells_."

Jiya laughed. "Too bad," she said. "'Cause I was _going_ to ask if you wanted to spend the night."

He cleared his throat. "Did you mean spending the night, or, um, _spending the night?_ "

"Both." She watched him. They hadn't gotten beyond heavy petting on the couch. She'd enjoyed that, enjoyed the two of them taking their time, and sometimes sex made things awkward. But she wanted this, with him, if he did. She knew he did in general. She wasn't sure about tonight.

"But, I'm dead to you," she added. "So unless you have a necrophiliac streak I _don't_ want to know about—"

His lips on hers silenced her. He reached up and eased his fingers through her hair, cradling her head with both hands, thumbs stroking across those shivery places right below her ears. "I take it back," he whispered. Then he tilted his head and kissed her more deeply.

"Retraction accepted," she managed when they broke apart. "So… you wanna stay?"

She honestly expected further awkwardness, because, well, exhibit A: _durable plastic tube_. But—

"I'd like that a lot." His voice was suddenly low and warm, in a way that sent a little pleasant heat through her stomach. He kissed her jawline, then that sensitive spot on her neck. She tilted her head back as her hands tightened on his shoulders, encouraging him to do it again, and he obliged. Thoroughly.

Then he pulled away. "I, um, have my all-nighter bag stashed in the car," he said. "Be right back."

Jiya nodded. Working overnight to meet a deadline wasn't unheard of— though Mason was always really good about making it up to them with time off later— and most of them had a change of clothes and some toiletries in their locker or their car.

When he came back, he was frowning at his phone. "Everything okay?" she asked.

"It's just, uh, Wyatt." Rufus swiped. "He keeps wanting to talk. I think he wants my help with something? But that—" He silenced his phone. "Can definitely wait." He slid his phone inside his pocket.

"Good." She locked the door behind him. He put the bag down and kissed the back of her neck. Then he slid one hand to her hip and used the other to tug down her neckline, kissing her shoulder blade, sucking what she knew would be a red mark in the morning into her skin, and then soothing the spot with his tongue when she gasped. _Nothing visible with normal clothes_ was her boundary, and unlike that asshole she'd briefly dated who'd kept "forgetting," Rufus was happy to respect it.

She took his hand, and led him to her bedroom.

"Hey, you, uh, have the clap." He pointed to the giant stuffed syphilis on the shelf high on the wall.

"Oh… yeah." She rolled her eyes. "My college roommate thought that was funny. I didn't think it, you know, needed to be part of our STI conversation." She cupped his neck and kissed him, sliding her other hand up and down his body.

He leaned into her touch, tangling his fingers through her hair. She _mmm_ ed against his mouth, and reached for his hem. But he pulled away, and looked at her. "Um… Jiya?"

He looked shy all of a sudden. Why? She knew this wasn't his first time or anything. Had he changed his mind? He wasn't looking at her like that, but maybe that was it. Or were they about to have the durable plastic tube conversation part two: the entubening?

"Yeah?" Her voice came out breathier than she'd expected.

He glanced down, then back up. Definitely shy. "Do you think I could, um, undress you?"

She blinked. She hadn't— that was sweet—

She'd had two longish-term relationships and two hookups, and she'd let none of those men undress her their first time. But she already knew Rufus was different.

"Would you like that?" she asked, because the answer was pretty obvious, but she wanted to see his response.

The look on his face was both sweet and hot. "A lot, yeah."

"Yeah." She smiled at him. "Sure."

He took his time about it, with a patience that, paradoxically, was really doing it for her. He slid his hands slowly up her body, and stopped to cup her breasts and rub his thumbs over her nipples in the firm, almost-rough way he knew she liked.

" _Rufus_." It came out with a bit of a growl, and a bit of a groan. He smiled at her— almost a smirk— and gently, carefully, peeled her shirt off. Jiya shivered when he reached back to make sure it didn't tangle with her hair. Then he leaned forward and kissed her again as he reached around to— to the clasp of her— wow, manual dexterity, it was… a… thing… that he definitely…

He carefully tugged her bra down her arms and tossed it on her dresser. Then he stepped back and looked at her. There was no mistaking the hunger in his gaze, but it was the wonder she _really_ didn't know what to do with.

He bent down and sucked her nipple into his mouth, and that thought, plus every other, fled.

She clutched at his shoulders and tried not to whimper as he worked his way slowly and torturously down her body. Her clit throbbed fiercely at just the thought of— of his head where it was— then he eased open the button of her jeans and slid the zipper down, looking up at her to make sure it was still okay. She was more focused on not spontaneously combusting on the spot, but she managed to nod.

Then he worked her jeans down, his hands trailing down her hips and thighs— then her panties—

When she was totally naked, he sat back on his heels and looked up at her. "Um… wow." His honest admiration cut through the haze of her arousal and went straight to her heart.

He leaned forward, mouth open. She grabbed his shoulders to stop him, because if he so much as touched her— let alone _licked_ — oh God, she was already so wet and so turned on, and she wasn't even sure when that had happened, they'd barely— she might just come on the spot, and she wasn't ready for that yet. "You're wearing _way_ too many clothes, Rufus," she managed, voice wobbly.

He sat back on his heels again and looked a little self-conscious. That look only intensified as he stood, and she was pretty sure that only the shade of his skin prevented his blush from being visible.

He slid off his jeans first, with a little wiggle of his hips that seemed totally unconscious and also _yes please_. His shirt went next, tugged over his head and tossed unceremoniously on the floor, and then his undershirt.

His underwear had Death Stars on it.

He cleared his throat. "Just checking, I probably shouldn't make a joke about fully armed and operational, right?"

She _looked_ at him. She wasn't a Star Wars fan like he was, but she still knew what had _happened_ to the Death Star. _Why_ would you compare your…

"Um, so that's a no," he said. He stepped out of his underwear and tried and failed miserably to look nonchalant, rubbing the back of his neck.

She looked him slowly up and down. Oh, yes.

 _Yes_.

She stepped forward and kissed him _hard_ , trying to tug them both towards the bed while at the same time touch every square inch of him. The smooth skin of his back— the firm muscles of his stomach— the pronounced curves of his biceps— none of this was totally new to her in isolation, but all together— Then she slid her hands down to his narrow hips, the ridges of his hipbones, the rough hair there, his half-hard—

They both tried to pull the other onto the bed at the same time and toppled ungracefully down. She landed under him. "Rufus, _Rufus_ ," she panted, as his mouth trailed, hot and demanding, from her own mouth, down her neck, between her breasts, across her stomach. She squirmed with a heady mix of pleasure and torturous anticipation. He made it clear where he was headed— she was swollen and aching and sensitive, and she felt some wetness run out even as she spread her legs—

He stroked his thumb across her clit. She gasped and nearly arched off the bed at that first touch before she forced her hips back down. Then he leaned forward and—

— his— _tongue_ —

For a second her world narrowed to that slow, hot, perfect circle around her clit. Her fingers curled against her sheets. Her breathing was shaky, and then he—

His hands eased her thighs farther apart. Jiya groaned as he settled into a rhythm. She was dimly aware she was making a mess. Should've put a towel down. "That's good," she panted. "Oh, that's— _Rufus_ —"

His mouth curved into a smirk that nearly made her lose her mind. Then he eased off the pressure, apparently trying _to kill her_ —

Then he tilted his head and went for it again with a new angle, a new stroke. She whined in the back of her throat.

He stopped and started again like that two more times, and it was annoying before she caught on. She was a— oh God— scientist, she'd—mm— slept with other scientists, the last time a guy had brought his scientific curiosity to bed he'd made her feel like a specimen—

But _this?_

This was Rufus figuring her out. Figuring out what she liked— best—

She closed her eyes, moaned, and tried hard not to rock against his mouth as he applied his tongue _and_ his brain to the subject of her pleasure. He settled into a rhythm again, and the pleasure was building, fierce and relentless, in that unmistakable spot deep inside her.

He eased two fingers inside her—

Oh _fuck_ oh fuck he— worked with his hands— those clever fingers— right where she— fuck— sensitive— so good— she couldn't—

She gasped his name, her breathing rough, as the pressure— "Rufus— _yes_ , please, oh _fuck_ — yes— right— more— _please_ —"

She gasped and fell _apart_ , shuddering. His licks and strokes eased slowly off as the peak of her pleasure passed, leaving her thoroughly…

Her hips sank back down against the bed. Her breath escaped her as an involuntary sigh/moan.

She hadn't… considered…

Her train of thought was still lying in pieces beside the track. _Definitely_ hadn't considered his transferable skills.

"So," she panted. "You took epic feats in dexterity, huh?"

He looked pleased with himself. It was a better look on him than on most men. Mostly, though, he just looked pleased in general. Pleased that _she_ was pleased.

She tried to sit up and kiss him, but she was still too _done_ . Instead she curled her fingers in a _come-here_ gesture. Obligingly, he crawled up the bed until they were at the same level.

She reached over, half surprised any of her muscles worked after that, and grabbed a tissue from the box on her nightstand. She felt her own face heat a bit as she wiped off the lower half of his face. He ducked his head and grinned, a little bashful, which was just fucking adorable.

Then she tugged his head down to hers, and kissed him, as slow and soft as she knew how. She eased her tongue gently along his, and savored the way he almost melted against her. She stroked her hand down the firm muscles of his back, and thought about all the places on his skin she still hadn't put her mouth.

She wanted to make him feel just as good as he'd made her feel, but after fireworks like that, it was gonna take her a minute. But the feel of his body pressed full length against hers, with no clothes in the way… that was new. And she liked it very much.

He pulled back just far enough to look down at her, eager and tender at the same time. Then he slid down beside her on his side. He twined a lock of her hair around her fingers and let it gently fall onto her chest.

She rolled over to face him and propped herself up on one elbow. She leaned up to kiss him, and cupped his cheek with her free hand. She slid her hand slowly down his neck to his chest, then let her fingernails drag very lightly against his skin as she continued down to his stomach. She let her palm rest there a moment, where hard muscle met that little cushion of fat. Then she kept going. His hair tickled her hand as she wrapped her fingers around him and began to stroke him.

Oh, his half-voiced groans of pleasure were _everything_.

"Jiya." The whisper came out rough. "Jiya…"

She kissed him, letting him think of other things she might do with her tongue another day, and, oh, she loved those little needy noises he was making. The bed shifted as his hips rocked. She was starting to ache with arousal again, and—

Shit, they needed something, didn't they.

"Do you have—" she whispered against his mouth.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, choked back a groan, gently pushed her hand away, and turned on his back so he could stretch for his bag. Officially, they were backing up her IUD. She always liked to have two methods of birth control anyway— no _way_ was she ready to have a kid. She wasn't sure that was something she even _wanted_ , but if it was, definitely not now.

Unofficially, it was just… really intimate, letting a guy finish inside her. Intimate, and messy. She wasn't sure she was there yet with Rufus.

He finally gave up on reaching from there and sat up to take a foil packet out of an inside pocket. "Non-latex," he assured her. "Which, didn't that suck with your ComicCon cosplay that one year?"

"I'm… not actually allergic."

He looked confused. "Are non-latex condoms your brown M&Ms?"

"No, I mean, I'm not allergic _yet_ . Um, so my college roommate, she used the latex ones for years, and then she developed a sensitivity. And just thinking about having an allergic reaction _there_ …"

He winced.

"Yeah, kinda makes my vagina want to fly south for the winter."

She realized what a _terrible_ analogy that was half a second before Rufus burst out laughing. "Now I'm picturing that," he managed between laughter. "On little wings, like the Snitch…"

"Oh my God! Thanks for that, Rufus!" Oh God, now that picture was in _her_ mind.

He snickered a few more times. "Hey, you started it."

She had. So she'd better finish it.

She leaned into him and kissed him, sliding her tongue slowly against his as her hand slid down his body. He'd gone partially soft, so she stroked him, gentle, at first. He swallowed as he started to harden again in her hand. His eyes drifted closed. He made a soft groaning, longing sound in the back of his throat, and she felt his stomach muscles tense as he tried not to push against her hand.

" _Jiya…_ " It came out almost as a whine when she pulled back and gently bit at his lower lip. She found the condom and carefully rolled it on him, still teasing his tongue with hers as she did. She stroked him a few more times to make sure the condom was in place, and he made that low moaning sound again, louder this time. It was incredibly sexy.

He was already halfway between his side and his back, so she pushed gently on his hip, and he rolled onto his back. She straddled his hips. "Okay like this?"

"More than okay," he breathed, staring up at her.

She took him in hand and slowly slid down onto him. She let out a deep, measured breath. It had been a while for her, and this burned a little. But between his fingers earlier, and that first orgasm, and the fact that she _really wanted this_ , she thought she'd be—

"Okay?" His voice was strained, but there was no mistaking his sincerity.

Jiya stared at him, startled, and touched. "Yeah," she said after a second. "Y— yeah."

She moved her hips in a slow circle, grinding against him as the burn eased. When she did it again, he groaned. "Jiya," he breathed.

She smiled down at him.

She began to move faster. She was proud of being in good enough shape to actually properly ride him, like, up and down, instead of just wiggling. He set his feet against the mattress and began to gently thrust into her, meeting her stroke for stroke.

His hands came up to hold her, steady her. His warm touch swept up her sides to her breasts, then back down to rest at her hips, bracing her. He stared at her with wonder and warmth and _wanting_ as they moved together.

She gasped when his thumb found her clit. The burn was totally gone now, and he felt good, _so_ good like this— she felt full in the best way, full and _hungry_ at the same time— _oh_ — and that little explosion of pleasure, from the pressure of his thumb each time she slid back down, slick and needy—

She leaned forward and braced herself against him, and the new angle— oh God, _yes_ — it was— it was— oh God, oh God, oh God—

"Rufus," she panted. " _Rufus_."

The movement of his hips shifted— he pushed into her deeper, and she cried out at how that felt— "God, Jiya, you're gorgeous," he whispered. "So— so fucking sexy, I can't even—"

Her breathing roughened. Her mouth fell open, and little noises of desperation escaped her as she— she _needed_ —

"Ahhh!" The ragged wordless cry escaped her as she came again. With each pulse, she tightened around him, still firm inside her, and that feeling heightened the pleasure that coursed through her, until it seemed to fill her to repletion to her very toes and fingertips.

"Need… a second," she gasped when she could… words. Oh. _Oh_.

"Whatever— whatever you…" His voice was still rough and low with longing— she just needed to catch her breath—

She'd gone a little cross-eyed. When she made her eyes focus on his face again, his look…

"You wanna," she panted, and he nodded. His hands were tight on her hips, his muscles tense, and she could see the effort it took him to stay still, to give her her second.

But when she tried to push herself up so they could change positions, her thighs just didn't wanna cooperate. The burning in her muscles that the pleasure had masked made itself known, now. "… this is… embarrassing," she managed.

"We could try that super sexy thing where we roll over together." She could hear the tension in his voice, the need, but also the laughter.

She nodded, and leaned forward until he could turn them, arms wrapping around her back to keep her from falling onto the mattress. _Huh_. That actually—

"That went better than I expected," he said, echoing her thoughts. "Good?"

She wriggled to adjust her hips a little, and nodded. He began to thrust again, slower and deeper than she expected. She felt ridiculously, obscenely slick now, and it was wonderful. Her hands tightened on his shoulder blades, then slid down the warm, firm muscles of his sides, to his ass, to pull him even more closely against her. She pulled her legs in. She moaned as the feeling changed, then wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Jiya," he panted, elbows digging into the mattress. He shifted, and the ridge of his groin began to grind against her clit as they moved faster. She let out a little cry at the building pleasure of that, then whimpered at the pressure of his chest against her nipples.

She'd never gone again so soon before, but she'd never before had Rufus, her beautiful Rufus, braced above her, against her, inside her, filling her so perfectly, hitting just the right spots, inside and out. She felt her toes curl as her whole body seemed to slowly, inexorably, tighten toward orgasm. " _Rufus_." It came out pleading—

"Oh God— Jiya—" His own voice was so strained—

She came unceremoniously, and hard. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, narrowing to the pleasure, to Rufus, to his desperate gasps as she squeezed around him again, to the choked sound he made as he came, too— He slumped against her, most of his weight landing beside her on the bed—

… after a minute, her body finally unwound.

"… _hmmmmm_." She was beyond words for the moment.

Rufus kissed her lightly, and carefully pulled out of her. Her dazed mind noted an argument in favor of skipping the condom next time: they could linger a bit longer without worrying about the mess.

"Mmmm," she sighed again.

"Um," he panted after a minute. "So. Wow." His voice had turned warm and soft, and he smiled down at her, tired and big and brilliant.

She sighed happily.

They did have to get up after that, he to throw away the condom, both of them to clean up. And Jiya had read that study that said peeing right after anything penetrative didn't make a difference in getting a UTI, but she did it anyway, because it probably didn't hurt anything and UTIs _sucked_.

They made it back to her bed. Jiya stretched out on her side and yawned. "Pajamas," she muttered when she realized. She had cute ones and she wanted him to see them…

"I have a better idea," he murmured. He shifted until they were right up against each other, and pulled the blankets up around them both. "Warm enough?"

She nodded, and rested her cheek against the warmth of his chest, against his soft hair. He smelled so good… she _felt_ so good.

#

She woke disoriented, and not sure why.

It took her a second to realize she wasn't alone. Right, _Rufus_ —

and he was talking.

In his sleep, apparently. "Anthony," he muttered. "No—"

Jiya felt suddenly cold. She'd been there when he'd told them what Anthony had done in 1968, and… she totally believed him, she just didn't _want_ to. Anthony had been so kind to her when she was new at Mason Industries. He'd been such a good guy to _everyone_ — his coworkers, his friends, his wife and children, whom he adored. What the _hell_ prompted a man like that to start working with Garcia Flynn?

If it could happen to Anthony— what if it could happen to anyone?

"… house," gasped Rufus, and shuddered.

Well, he wasn't waking up on his own. Jiya shook his shoulder firmly. "Rufus. It's— it's Jiya, you're at my apartment—"

He gasped, and his eyes flew open. He took another shaky breath. "Sorry," he said. "Shit, I'm… sorry."

She shook her head. "It's okay." She didn't know what that specific dream had been about, but, like, Nazis, the Alamo, Nazis _again_ … he kinda had a lot to choose from.

He closed his eyes. In the light that came in through the windows, he looked so haunted. She reached down and cupped his face, stroking her thumb across his cheek. She wasn't super-great at being tender… but for him, right now, she'd give it her best shot.

He took a deep breath in and out. "I didn't say anything, did I?"

"Just… Anthony."

Rufus sighed.

"Hey," she said softly. "It's okay. You're okay. You're safe."

Until their next trip, at least.

He opened his eyes and looked up at her. He didn't smile, but his face turned so soft that she—

She could lose her heart to this man so easily.

She wasn't sure she was ready for that. But could she _resist?_

"I could go," he said quietly.

Startled, unwilling to examine the sharpness of her disappointment, she said, "No. I mean— unless— do you _want_ to go?"

"No— but I woke you up."

"It's _all_ _right_ ," she told him firmly. "Rufus, it's all right."

He relaxed against the mattress, and only then did she realize how tense he'd been. "Okay," he said softly.

She leaned down and kissed his forehead. His body against hers, without any pesky clothing in between, still felt _so_ good. She slid her hand to his shoulder, and enjoyed the warmth of his skin and the firmness of his deltoids under her palm.

He reached up and tugged a lock of her hair gently over her shoulder. He let it run through his fingers, then did it again.

She smiled at him. "You've got a thing for my hair," she said knowingly.

He looked bashful. "Maybe."

"I can work with this." She could put it up with pins and let him take it down, slowly and carefully… or, next time she was on top of him, lean forward so it brushed against his chest, or…

"Your 'I'm thinking about this' face is really sexy," he murmured, and kissed her neck.

She wasn't sure about him, but it wouldn't take much for her to be ready for round two. Should she see how he felt about that? Maybe it would take his mind off the dream— maybe even if— oh, God, the way he'd worked her up with his _tongue_ —

Wouldn't take much _at all_.

But it was— she glanced at the clock— two thirty, and beneath her incipient arousal, she was tired. They would have more chances for sex, a _lot_ more if she had anything to say about it. Right now… she swallowed a yawn.

"You gonna be okay?" she asked, when she could use consonants again.

"I will now." He rolled onto his back. "Sure you don't want me on the couch?"

"I want you to do whatever makes you comfortable," she said. "But if you're asking my _opinion_ , I want you right…" She curled into him, head against his chest, one arm over his waist, and completed her capture of him by putting her calf over his. "Here," she finished. She snuggled a little closer. "Think you can handle that?"

"I'll do my best," he promised, voice reverberating in his chest, and pulled his arm free so he could wrap it around her shoulders.

#

Jiya was a big fan of both morning sex and morning cuddles. So she was really disappointed to slowly wake up and realize she was alone. Maybe Rufus was just in the bathroom? Except the other side of the bed was cold.

Her eyes began to sting, and she felt like an idiot on several levels. Except— wait, she smelled coffee.

She blinked, fumbled for her robe, and shuffled out to her kitchen, where she found Rufus—

"Morning," he greeted her, clearly both pleased to see her and pleased with himself.

She blinked at him, standing at her counter. "Is that… breakfast?"

"Male praying mantises bring females food gifts when they get it on," he explained, gesturing with the batter-coated spatula. "Makes it less likely the females bite their heads off. Well, supposedly."

"Those… really weren't the circumstances under which I'd pictured having your head in my mouth, but okay."

Rufus choked on his coffee. Jiya smirked, and crossed the kitchen to him. She slid her arms around his waist. "Good morning."

"Hey." He kissed her.

"I'm not a praying mantis," she pointed out. "You didn't have to make breakfast."

"Yeah, I think I would've noticed the extra legs." He grinned down at her. "I know. I just wanted to."

She leaned her head against his chest, enjoying the warmth of this incredibly… sweet and big-hearted and just… _Rufus_ … man. Slowly another fact filtered into her groggy morning-after-great-sex consciousness. "I didn't have any pancake batter."

"I made it from scratch."

"You what?" She lifted her head.

"It's not hard."

She blinked at him.

"It's, uh, cheaper than mix," he added. "So Mom always made them from scratch, and I learned from her."

Right. If he could build an entire navigation system for a time machine, he could definitely make pancakes from scratch… so, uh, what was _her_ excuse?

She poured herself some coffee and watched him pour the batter. After a minute she gave into temptation, wrapped her arms around him from behind, and leaned her head against his back. She sighed happily. Even better was when she felt him relax a little. _Aw_.

"I'm glad you stayed over," she murmured.

"Me, too." He tucked his left hand over hers for a second until he needed it to hold the skillet still while he poked at the batter.

"Okay, first ones are up," he said after a few moments. She straightened up, got two plates from the cupboard—

And realized she should've been paying a bit more attention to _how_ he was poking the batter. Why was she even surprised.

"Give me that." She reached for the cup of batter. She was a highly competent woman. If he could serve her Death Star pancakes, she could _totally_ make the starship _Enterprise_ out of pancake batter.

"Nice Jabba," Rufus told her a few minutes later.

She pointed the syrup bottle at him warningly. He chuckled, low and warm, and it sounded so damn sexy she couldn't even pretend to be irritated. Not even a little.

"Mind if I use your shower?" he asked when they'd eaten and cleaned up the kitchen.

"Nope, go right ahead."

He cleared his throat. "There's a drought. We could… save water."

 _Save water?_ She looked at him, trying not to giggle. He was lucky he was cute.

… and kind. And brilliant. And brave. And thoughtful. And good in bed. And…

Okay, maybe she was the lucky one.

She'd already known that this, with him, was— different, from any other relationship she'd had. She felt like she'd just gotten a glimpse of _how_ different it could be.

It scared her.

"This is about my hair, isn't it," she said lightly, trying to move past that moment.

He smiled bashfully. "Not _totally_."

She smirked at him. He reached out and brushed a strand back from her face. "It's beautiful," he said quietly. "Like the rest of you."

She stopped smiling, startled into speechlessness.

"Though, if I'm being honest," he added. "The rest of you is also brilliant and badass, so, it actually has points on your hair." He cupped her cheek, and kissed her softly.

Danger. Danger, Will Robinson. So much danger…

She leaned into his kiss.

He pulled back, and looked at her with such open admiration that— she—

"Did you actually want to?" he asked. "'Cause I don't wanna bug you if—"

She cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. "Yeah," she murmured against his mouth. "I did."

"Oh. Awesome." He looked like he was struggling with… words. He took her hand, and led her towards the bathroom.

She was _pretty_ sure they weren't actually going to save any water.

**Author's Note:**

> You can take this as part of the Only Way Out continuity if you like, or you can just imagine Jiya has colorful college roommates in _every_ continuity.
> 
> Becoming sensitized to latex is absolutely a thing. For the brown M&M story, go [here](https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/brown-out/).
> 
> Jiya “capturing” Rufus is a nod to Lois McMaster Bujold's _Cordelia’s Honor_.


End file.
